


"You and I understand each other. We click."

by macmcdonald



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol, Asexual Charlie, Coming Out, Drugs, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Mac is gay, Young, but we already know that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5869783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macmcdonald/pseuds/macmcdonald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of stories between mac and charlie</p>
            </blockquote>





	"You and I understand each other. We click."

**Author's Note:**

> these are charliemac stories; there is about one instance of macdennis, though.   
> p.s. i love my trash children so i decided to write some small charmac one shots (sort of?), even though i still need to finish my macdennis fic :~)

Charlie was seven the first time he saw Mac across the classroom. He was tall, well at least taller than Charlie. He sat alone, on the floor, in the back corner of the room. Charlie watched as the boy hauled the toy fire truck back and forth across the carpet. He was mesmerized by him, but he had no idea why. Charlie crossed the classroom, almost sneakily, until he approached Mac. Mac glanced up at Charlie, with a hint of fear in his eyes. 

“...Hi?” The boy on the ground spoke.   
“Hello,” Charlie replied before sitting down in front of Mac.   
“I like your truck.” Charlie reached to touch the small toy, admiring the chipped paint and broken wheel.   
“Thank you!” Mac beamed, not able to control his excitement. “It’s like, so cool. My dad said that he found it out by the dumpster next to our house!”  
“I love dumpsters! But, my mom always yells at me when I even try to get near one.” Charlie groaned  
“Dude, I swear, there is like treasures in there!” Mac exclaimed, his small hands gesturing his excitement. “Maybe sometime you can come with me to the one next to my house.” He smiled.   
“I’d love that! Oh, and I’m Charlie! What’s your name?”  
“Ronald, but I’d prefer you call me Mac.”  
“Mac. Mac. Mac.” Charlie repeated, making himself laugh.  
“Charlie. Charlie. Charlie.” Mac repeated, both of the boys hysterically laughing over nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie was ten the first time he slept over Mac’s house. He had grown taller, at least 4 inches more than Charlie now. Mac’s hair was slicked back, though Charlie much preferred it messy. 

“Dude, I can’t believe your mom is finally letting you stay over! This is the best!” Mac threw his arm around Charlie’s shoulders.   
“Yeah,” Charlie nervously laughed. He had never stayed the night anywhere but his own bed. He barely ever left his house except to go to school.  
They sat on Mac’s bedroom floor, staring at each other.   
“Dude, please blink first.” Mac widened his eyes, trying to make them water.  
“No way, man!” Charlie laughed, but kept his eyes glued to Mac’s. They were mud colored, and Charlie loved playing in the mud. Especially with Mac.   
“You have mud eyes.” Charlie whispered.   
“What do you mean?” Mac giggled.   
“Your eyes. They are the color of mud.”   
“Well, your’s look like, uh, grass or…trees.”   
Charlie blinked, forgetting what they were doing.  
“Charles! You blinked! I win!” Mac squeezed his eyes shut, but continued to grin.  
“Hey, don’t call me that.” Charlie pouted.   
“C’mon, man. Don’t be a baby.” Mac grabbed Charlie’s hand and laughed.   
And maybe Charlie’s face turned pink, but Mac didn’t seem to notice. Charlie laid back onto the floor and saw a small firetruck toy underneath Mac’s bed. He smiled, and closed his eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie was thirteen when Mac convinced him to try out for the wrestling team.   
“C’mon, man! You are like, the strongest little dude that I know.”  
“How many little dudes do you know?”   
“It doesn’t matter! Please, do this for me?” Mac widened his eyes.   
“You look like a puppy when you do that.” Charlie smirked.   
“So? What’s that supposed to mean?” Mac was suddenly defensive. The last thing he would ever want to be compared to is something cute. He was tough. He was a badass.   
“Nothing, dude. Totally a badass puppy if anything.” Charlie knew what to say to make Mac happy. He knew that Mac thought of himself as Charlie’s protector. In a sense, he was. He would fight kids who made fun of Charlie, even if he ended up losing and having a broken nose.   
“We can practice together and everything! Which means we can hang out more.” Mac begged.   
“Okay, fine.” Charlie had no interest in wrestling, but if it made Mac happy, he would do it just to see him smile.   
Mac grasped Charlie’s hand as a ‘thank you’ because he knew how much Charlie loved to hold hands. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie was sixteen when Mac introduced him to Dennis Reynolds. Mac had grown even more, and now he really towered over Charlie.   
“Charlie, you are going to love Dennis! He’s so cool, and he can hook us up with beer and weed. We can be cool kids!” Mac grabbed Charlie’s arm, sort of dragging him to walk faster.   
“We don’t need that stuff to be cool, Mac. We have each other, and we have glue and spray paint. We don’t need anyone else.” Charlie mumbled.   
“C’mon, Charlie. We can’t isolate ourselves from everyone for the rest of our lives.” Mac rolled his eyes.   
“Why not?” Charlie asked, genuinely concerned.   
“Because, Charlie, we aren’t little kids anymore. We are too dependent on each other.” Mac shrugged.  
“Oh.” Charlie shivered, realizing he left the house without a hoodie. He was hurt, and he didn’t feel like arguing with Mac over something as stupid as going back home for a jacket. He knew Mac would whine because they were already halfway to the park where they were supposed to meet Dennis.   
Charlie knew of Dennis. He knew he was an asshole. He knew that Mac shouldn’t like him as much as he does. He knew that it sent a pain in his chest every time Mac mentioned his name. Maybe Mac was right; he was too dependent on him.   
“Where’s your jacket?” Mac nudged Charlie out of his thoughts.   
“I forgot it.” Charlie recognized the words came out bitter, almost venom like. He kept his eyes glued to the ground, lightly kicking a rock in front of him.   
“Here,” Mac was shrugging off his hoodie and handing it to his friend before Charlie could interrupt.   
“...Thanks.” Charlie muttered, not wanting to accept it, but knowing he was too cold to refuse.   
They walked in silence, Mac occasionally tried to start a conversation, but realized Charlie wasn’t in the mood. They approached the park, the taller boy walking slightly faster than Charlie. They sat on a bench; the park was quiet. A 1985 Range Rover pulled into the parking lot across from the two boys.   
“That’s Dennis.” Mac stood up, stretching his arms into the air. He turned to meet Charlie’s eyes, but the smaller boy ignored his glance and stood to walk behind Mac.   
Charlie hated meeting new people and Mac knew that. Charlie walked at a slower pace than Mac, being sure to hide most of his body behind his friend.   
Dennis Reynolds was a joke. He came from a different world, in Charlie’s eyes. He was wearing khaki pants and a button down shirt. His hair looked clean and styled.   
Charlie scoffed out loud, receiving an elbow to the ribs from Mac.   
“Don’t be a dick, Charlie.”   
Charlie quickly quieted, realizing that he might be losing his best friend. They used to make fun of people like Dennis Reynolds all the time, but this time must have been different. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie was seventeen when Mac told him he was different. They sat on the couch in Charlie’s living room- side by side- just like they always did.   
“Of course you are different. No one is the same.” Charlie kept his eyes glued on the T.V. screen, but could feel Mac’s stare burning into him.   
“No, Charlie. It’s… complicated.” Mac hesitated.  
“What do you mean?” Charlie was confused, which was common when it came to Mac. He was smart, he could use big words; he could teach Charlie.   
“I don’t know… I, uh, never mind. Just forget I said anything.” Mac was staring at the floor, and Charlie felt his heart break slightly at the sight.   
“I know we don’t really talk about shit like this a lot, but, dude, you can like tell me anything. I would never judge.” Charlie mentions. 

It was quiet. Too quiet. Charlie reached for Mac’s hand. Mac flinched at the contact, but let Charlie intertwine their fingers. It had been years since they held hands. Mac inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. Charlie kept his eyes on his best friend, waiting for a sign that he was okay.   
“Charlie,” Mac kept his eyes shut. “I’m gay.”  
“Oh, well, yeah.” Charlie nervously laughed. “I already knew that.”   
“What? What do you mean?” Mac tensed up, face flushed.   
“I don’t know, man. I just had a feeling I guess? I didn’t think it was that important, though.”  
“What?” Mac was in complete shock.  
“What? I don’t care if you like to fuck guys. That’s your thing. Sex is gross in general, but that’s just how I feel.” Charlie leaned back against the couch, propping his leg up on the coffee table.   
Mac’s eyebrows shot up, he stared at Charlie, amazed that his friend would be so accepting.   
“Oh, well, uh, thanks.” Mac managed to express. “So… you think sex is gross?”  
“Well, yeah, kind of. I don’t like to think about it. I mean, I like the idea of hugging, and holding hands, and sometimes kissing seems like it would be nice…” Charlie trails off. “but it’s not a big deal. I’m sure there are tons of people who feel the way I do.”   
“Since when did you become so smart?” Mac squeezed Charlie’s hand.  
“Me? Smart?” Charlie actually started to blush. Mac thought he was smart? That’s so cool. Mac was so cool, Charlie thought.   
They stayed like that for awhile. They held hands until Charlie fell asleep with his head on Mac’s shoulder. Yeah, they were different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mac was twenty years old when he carried his best friend home from Dennis Reynolds’ birthday party. Dennis had come home for a few days from Penn State and decided to throw a party while his parents were out of town. Charlie had never been to an actual party before, he’d only been to a couple high school parties for a few minutes while Mac sold overpriced drugs to the rich kids of South Philly. 

“Charlie, please promise me you will be careful tonight. And remember to check up with me every so often, okay?” Mac gripped his friend’s arm while they walked down the long driveway leading to the Reynolds’ mansion.   
“Yeah, okay.” Charlie wasn’t listening; he was distracted by the size of the house, the amount of light escaping through the windows, the loud music blaring that made the ground shake.   
“Charlie! I’m serious!” Mac came to a stop, jerking Charlie back with him.  
“Sorry.” Charlie’s eyes met Mac’s. He knew that Mac really cared about him, but he also wasn’t a little kid. He could handle himself.   
“Don’t get too wasted. I don’t want to carry you home.” Mac turned and paced up the driveway, leaving Charlie to follow him. 

They approached the house, the door hung open, revealing at least 50 people in the living room and kitchen area. 

“Hey, dickbag.” Mac felt a jab at his side and turned to see Dennis’ sister, Dee.   
“Hey, Dee. Where’s Dennis?” Mac didn’t have time to make fun of her. He needed to deal and then find Dennis.   
Charlie stood slightly behind Mac, like he usually did.   
“Upstairs, I think.” Dee responded, glancing at Charlie. “You want a drink, short stuff?”   
Charlie raised his eyebrows, turning around to see who she was talking to.  
“Dee, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is Dennis’ sister, Dee. Or Big Bird. Whichever you prefer.” Mac introduced the two.   
“Shut up, Mac. Don’t you have to go bang Dennis or something?” Dee questioned while keeping eye contact with Charlie.   
“No! Gross!” Mac rolled his eyes, making Charlie laugh, and walked towards the staircase across the room.   
“So, how about that drink?” Dee asked. Charlie shrugged and followed her to the kitchen. 

It took three hours for Mac to find Charlie passed out on the floor of Dennis’ basement. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Charlie.” Mac rolled his eyes, leaning down next to his friend while shaking his shoulders.   
“Mac… I’m gonna - d-die..” Charlie was shivering and felt like his life was flashing before his eyes. Maybe he had one too many drinks.   
“Oh, you’re not going to die. Get up.” Charlie could barely see Mac, everything blurred together.   
“I don’t t-think I can.” Charlie gasped. This was not as fun as people made it seem.   
He felt his body shift, but kept his eyes shut. He opened them to see Mac. They were moving, but Charlie wasn’t walking. He felt pressure around his back and under his legs.   
“Are you carrying me?” Charlie managed to slur out.   
“Yes, Charlie. You are shit faced. You couldn’t even walk.” Mac kept a straight face, obviously trying to show Charlie he was angry.  
“Where are we?” Charlie’s head throbbed and he felt groggy.  
“Like, two feet from my house. You are staying over.”   
“We share b-bed?” Charlie questioned.   
“Yeah, buddy. We share bed.” Mac mimicked.   
Charlie was capable of taking his pants off and changing into one of Mac’s old shirts. He was capable of climbing into Mac’s arms underneath the blanket. Mac grabbed Charlie's hand is squeezed it.  
“Good night, Mac.”   
“Good night, Charles.”


End file.
